


my sealed lips are just a courtesy

by postfixrevolution



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Resolved Sexual Tension, don’t look at me i can't believe i wrote this and i’m burning, probably(?) not canon compliant but it can be if you Believe, sometimes a ship can just be two characters ur horny for, takes place during Sae’s palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 22:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution
Summary: (Ann looks up at Akechi and remembers three things at the exact same time: her name on his lips, humid and breathy against the shell of her ear; Ren’s warning,don’t take your eyes off of Akechi in the Metaverse; and the way her heart forgets to keep itself steady when Akechi laughs, when he teases her with that relentlessly attractive smirk and stares at her, absolutely speechless.)





	my sealed lips are just a courtesy

Ann considers the situation at hand, mentally retracing the steps that led to her chasing after her recklessly and voraciously curious Crow of a partner. She laments when she realizes that there’s really no other way this could have gone. It’s quite a shame.

Ren, Ryuji, Morgana, and Yusuke are on the strike team today, the hardest hitters and their best healer all packed into one unit. Futaba tagging along is a given, since she’s their navigator. Makoto had chosen to map out the casino and glean whatever she could about her sister’s mental state from the cognitions around them, and Haru had very gracefully decided to back her up.

Ann is still unconvinced that _“three’s a crowd”_ , as Makoto had said, and that she could have easily tagged along with the two girls, but one quick flash of Ren’s grey eyes in her direction made her decision clear: _don’t take your eyes off of Akechi in the Metaverse_.

That’s probably been the easiest part of their partnership so far; he’s a sight to behold.

Akechi is terrifying in combat, the ease with which he holds his gun doing nothing for the way Ann feels so on edge around him. There is a fire behind the rich mahogany of his eyes, matched only by the one that boils underneath her fingertips each time they launch into battle. Even Akechi’s costume is bold in a way that none of her fellow Thieves seem to share with her, and it’s admittedly...nice. It’s nice not being the only one painted in shades bigger and brighter than life, a blinding smear of color amidst her more subtly dressed friends. If anything, the brilliant white and crimsons of his outfit makes him an even larger target than she is. Ann is coming to loathe that fact more and more as they keep getting ambushed in Akechi’s increasingly daring attempts to uncover the casino’s every hidden corner.

A growl of frustration escapes her mouth as she summons Carmen again, Maragion burning at her fingertips as she sets their newest attackers ablaze. They’re reduced to ash and inky shadow before her partner even has the chance to fully recover from the ambush, and Ann swipes away a line of sweat that drips down past the curve of her mask.

“We need to stop getting ambushed,” she huffs. “I don’t know about you, but I need a break. We’ve been using _way_ too much magic.”

Their battles thus far always ended quickly enough, but with how much they’ve been sticking their noses into off-limits areas, they haven’t stopped running into fight after fight. If it weren’t for the fact that half of the Shadows in this casino were miraculously weak to fire skills, (and the other half to bless skills for some reason--not that Panther and Crow make a perfect team or anything) then Akechi would have already gotten the two of them killed four times over.

The Crow in question grounds out a pained grunt of agreement, using the nearest slot machine to pull himself up to his feet.

“You’re not wrong,” he groans, “I’m afraid we’ve hit our limits. Another battle might not end well.”

“No kidding!” she agrees. “Joker said to meet back at the safe room in a few hours, so I say our time is about up, right? Let’s go!”

With an airy scoff, Akechi jogs after her, falling neatly into step at Ann’s side.

“Feeling impatient?” he teases. “I would guess that only two hours have passed since we began. Don’t tell me that the lauded Panther has already had enough.”

Ann shoots him an unimpressed look. “I wouldn’t be so tired if a little Crow didn’t have us getting ambushed at every corner,” she repartees. “What were you hoping to find in an area labeled _Do Not Enter_ anyway? It’s a casino, not some weird, huge treasure vault. Trust me, we’ve seen one of those before. They kinda suck.”

“Junya Kaneshiro’s palace, if I were to guess?” he hums, a perfect facade of contemplation, and Ann presses her lips together. She wonders if he was watching them all the way back then, too. “Or perhaps it was Okumura... Greedy pigs like them are all the same.”

He doesn’t add anything else, but his last words have a bitter edge to them that Ann almost believes. She inches up to the next corner in lieu of answering, peeking behind the wall to scan the hallway for Shadows.

Akechi quickly follows her example as he looms behind her, the tip of his mask just barely visible in the corner of her eyes. The hand on her shoulder reminds her of the way he hovers over Ren as he opens chests, mahogany eyes alight at the prospect of treasure in a way that only a Crow’s would. She wonders if Akechi leans in as much with Ren too, close enough for his breath to fan unbearably across the back of her neck, the heat of it burrowing all too gleefully under her skin. Ann dives out of their hiding spot and hopes that Akechi doesn’t. (Not with Ren, and _certainly_ not with her.)

The safe room is a straight shot down the hall afterward, waiting diligently just past the _Do Not Enter_ doors, and Ann feels her exhaustion return twofold as she speeds down. She can feel her heart pounding in her throat, the rapid staccato of it mirroring the way her adrenaline spikes after dodging a lightning fast blow during battle. Akechi’s footsteps tap rhythmically behind her as he moves to catch up, but Ann only walks faster, eager to escape from both the open casino and Akechi’s close proximity.

They're nearly halfway down the hall when the far door just before their destination swings open. There’s undoubtedly a Shadow behind it, but all Ann sees is a blur of white and red as Akechi seizes her by the wrist and all but tackles them into hiding behind the nearest cabinet. Pain jolts up her spine as she collapses backwards to the floor, but her startled gasp is muffled by a firm hand over her mouth. With Akechi hunched over her like this, knees on either side of her and the long beak of his mask pressed against her cheek, Ann feels incredibly small.

The footfalls of the Shadow are lost to the deafening thunder of her heartbeat, and she squeezes her eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath through her nose. Ann regrets that action immediately afterward. Akechi smells dizzyingly like freshly printed papers and the burnt coffee that Ren accidentally makes when he gets too excited to show off his skills to Sojiro; she hates how she knows that scent will never leave her.

Ann can feel Akechi shifting his head by the way his mask presses against her cheek, no doubt trying to crane his neck just enough to set eyes upon the Shadow. He catches her by surprise again with a low mutter right beside her ear, and Ann all but jumps out of her own skin, breath hitching against his hand.

“Panther.” His breath is just as warm against her ear as it was over the back of her neck. Ann twists fingers into the cuff of her boots, so forcefully that the fabric squeaks in protest. “Your legs are exposed. You need to move them up or it’ll see us.”

 _It’s not the only thing feeling exposed_ , she tacks on mentally, silently praying that Akechi might have been too occupied to notice her reaction to him practically breathing into her ear.

She slides her legs slowly up, tensing at the stifled gasp that escapes his mouth as her knees press against his back. Blue eyes slide open slowly, and it’s another mistake, somewhere in the exact same vein as (accidentally) committing the heady scent of him to memory. Akechi’s lips are pressed tightly together, eyes boring into the shadowed expanse of the wall behind her. The fact that he can’t meet her eyes somehow makes the entire situation worse and Ann feels compelled to avert her own gaze. It’s extremely unfortunate that his mouth is the first thing her eyes shifts to, but she’s sure that it's better than looking up into rich mahogany and waiting for a staring match she knows she can't win.

His mouth is still pressed tightly shut, the bow of his lips screwed up with a rigid tension that Ann barely quashes the urge to smooth away (with her fingers, with her lips, with her _tongue_ \--and _that_ thought does absolutely nothing to rid the acute twist she feels in stomach). She slams her eyes shut again, returning to silently begging that the Shadow take its leave, that Akechi leans further back and quits breathing against the shell of her ear, that he moves his hand from her mouth and replaces it with his own--

And a door suddenly slams shut from down the hall, graciously severing that line of thought. Ann heaves a sigh of relief as Akechi removes his hand from over her mouth, deflating against the wall behind her. Blue eyes lift up to find Akechi staring intently back, looking like a deer in headlights to be caught gawking. His mouth hangs slightly ajar, words almost palpable on the tip of his tongue, but all Ann feels is the feather-light brush of warm air against her cheeks.

Ann has never seen him look so _speechless_. It’s a terribly good look on him and she presses her lips together, swallowing. (Mahogany eyes flicker toward the line of her throat, but Ann is so, _so_ sure that she just imagined it.)

“Crow,” she hates how rough her voice sounds as she mutters that, “I think... I think we need to go. We’re gonna get caught again.”

The speechlessness sits stubbornly in place, his gaze flickering just once toward her lips--and Ann _knows_ she didn’t just imagine that, a thought that sends a jolt of something absolutely electric up her spine. Gritting her teeth, she sucks in a steadying breath.

“Crow,” she repeats. A distracted blink, the warm fan of his breath over her skin. Ann feels too hot in her own skin. Is he leaning closer? “ _Akechi._ ”

He sucks in a sharp breath.

“Y-yes!” The shout startles them both and he tears his gaze away, drilling holes into the wall with his eyes. “Yes.” Quieter this time. Mahogany eyes slide closed, and he takes a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

With the grace of a cat, Akechi rolls back onto his heels, drawing himself up to his full height. By the time he thinks to offer her a hand, Ann has already pulled herself onto her haunches, springing up with a tight-lipped grin.

“That was a close one, wasn’t it?” she blurts, forcing a stilted laugh past her lips. It’s fake enough that she internally cringes. Akechi doesn’t comment on it, a fact Ann is grateful for until she dares a glance in his direction; he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, and that realization sends blood rushing to her cheeks. She turns pointedly away. The safe room is just down the hall and Ann practically runs the entire way there. They don't encounter another Shadow along the way and she's grateful. Even the buzz of the loud casino is background noise to the thrumming of her heart behind her eardrums; a battle now couldn't possibly end well.

Ann throws open the safe room doors with a newfound exhaustion, traipsing in and all but collapsing onto her customary spot atop the table. With her back flat against the tabletop, she focuses on slowing the pulse in her chest. Akechi files in a moment later, clicking the door shut behind him, and silence floods the room. The pounding of her own heart becomes the loudest thing Ann can hear, and--even though he’s completely silent--there’s something about being in a room alone with Akechi that makes his presence so inexplicably _loud_.

Ann sits up to find Akechi sitting in his claimed corner, making himself comfortable on the couch right in the center of her field of vision. Mahogany eyes remain infuriatingly trained on her, so Ann leans down to cradle her chin in her hands and stare blankly back.

“When you’re done resting, we could return to our exploring,” he offers casually. The disconnect between his intense gaze and his light tone is almost dizzying, but Akechi pulls it off in a way only he could.

“In your dreams,” Ann snorts, sitting up. “I know we made a good team, but with an outfit as bright as yours, we’re still just going to end up getting ambushed again and again if we go back out.”

“As bright as mine?” he echoes, arching an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but you’re not dressed much better than I am.”

“My outfit is way more thief-like than yours!” she protests. “You look more like...” _A prince?_ her mind supplies. She banishes the thought immediately, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth in contemplation. Mahogany eyes flicker down to watch the movement, and Ann spouts the first thing she can think of, heart tripping over itself in her chest. “Marching band chic!” It’s a very bad answer and the twist of his lips as he stifles a laugh only serves to affirm that.

“And marching band chic is worse than a bright red catsuit?” he repartees.

“Of _course_ ,” she sniffs, tilting her nose up at him with a playfully exaggerated disdain. Akechi watches the admittedly ridiculous display with bright eyes.

“Well, if anyone were to know fashion, it would undoubtedly be you,” he acquiesces, pulling himself up to his feet. Ann feels like she imagines the way his gaze flicks appreciatively from her head to her toes. He’s taller than her when he isn't seated, and that smallness only feels more and more acute as he starts to pace in front of her, eyes never drifting too far from where she sits. “I know I’m no less flashy,” he begins idly, “but even in the Metaverse, you never fail to turn heads.” (She isn’t sure if it's a compliment or another jab at her costume, but something about the way he says it makes her heart stutter.)

Without warning, Ann kicks her leg out, stopping him right in the middle of his pacing. His gaze flies up to meet her own, that same breath-taking speechlessness painted gently across his face. Ann pulls her lower lip between her teeth, watching shadowed mahogany eyes flicker between glancing at her mouth and meeting her gaze. There’s a heartbeat thudding mercilessly away in her throat, and Akechi simply  _staring_ at her only makes it worse.

“I--! I know what you're doing,” she blurts. “Do you think you’re being subtle?”

It’s as jarring a change of topic as it is in the charged silence between them. Slot machines hum their tunes and fake coins are passed around like discordant bells, muffled through the safe room door but managing to fill their silence with a white noise that Ann can feel growing fuzzier with each passing second. Mahogany eyes decide to settle on her lips. They tremble as she presses them together, swallowing.

Akechi takes his time responding, pushing away the soft surprise on his face with a deep breath. “I wasn’t aware there was any need to be,” he responds slowly. He meets her gaze evenly, and the heartbeat in Ann’s throat only thuds on more insistently. “Subtlety has no place in a palace of debauchery, after all,” he adds, his teasing smirk supplemented by an unfairly attractive glint to his eyes. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The ends of his smirk are visible from behind the long nose of his mask, and Ann considers ripping the garish red thing off his face. She misses that speechless expression much more than his newfound smart-assery and wonders if flustering him enough might bring it back. The awed tightness in her chest at the sight is (probably) better than the way she feels her heart trying to climb its way out through her throat, but Ann’s starting to feel more like the losing side of a zero-sum-game the more his smirk makes her ache to trace the curve of it with her _tongue_.

She inhales slowly.

“It’s a casino,” Ann huffs, “not a strip club.”

Ann realizes immediately that it’s the wrong thing to say, and the way his mahogany eyes alight does terrible things to the pit of her stomach.

“I never said I meant _that_ type of debauchery, Panther,” he repartees pleasantly.

“S-says you!” she deflects--so much for those heart strengthening lessons--but the ground underneath her now feels so much safer than the way his eyes on her lips made her heart race like a rabbit’s in her chest. She crosses her arms, turning bodily away. “Quit staring at my mouth, _Crow_ , and maybe I’ll believe you!”

When he doesn’t respond, she dares a small glance in his direction. The instant their eyes meet, his gaze flickers briefly down again, and Ann knows perfectly well it’s only to antagonize her this time, but the heat that floods her cheeks doesn't know the difference. She reaches out and slaps the mask off his face by the stupid nose. It’s somewhat of a mistake because his smirk is no longer half hidden underneath it, and she is very much aware of the fact that staring at it means staring just as much at his _lips_.

“Subtlety has never been your strong suit either, _Takamaki-san_ ,” he notes, gliding forward with a neat step over his discarded mask.

Ann crosses her legs as she did her arms, scooting herself further back onto the safe room table. With blue eyes torn away from his lips, she meets his gaze again, daring him to try and step any closer to the self-made barrier she has raised.

With a flick of her ankle, she kicks the tip of her boot against his thigh. A warning shot. Akechi is remarkably unperturbed. Another step forward, and the foot is pushed away with an electrifying slide of her calf against his hip, knee bumping gently against a solid hipbone as he stops. Agile fingers play at the cuff of her boots, and Ann forces herself not to watch as they trace along the top of it, fingertips ghosting over her thigh. She tenses as they do.

Akechi’s touch is never more than feather-light against the smooth surface of her suit, and the barely-there buzz it leaves behind is somehow worse than the idea of fire-hot hands pressed harshly against her skin. She feels too much like glass with the ghost of fingertips, hovering and tracing but never _feeling_ , so she hits her knee against hip, relishing in the low gasp that cuts through their silence as their bones knock together.

He leans back and meets her gaze, looking annoyed, and Ann wonders if she might have ruined the moment.

“Is there a problem?” Akechi asks, sounding somewhat impatient. Ann shifts so that her legs separate them again, putting a thigh’s distance between them as she curls her fingers over the lip of the table. She breathes out from parted lips and the air that leaves them is far too warm.

“The team... Everyone could be back any minute.”

He meets her gaze levelly, looking entirely unimpressed. _Deflecting_ , she fails to not remind herself. It doesn’t do much to slow the racing in her chest.

Akechi leans forward, arms long enough to reach across the distance between them and press a gloved palm into the edge of the table by her own. Her knees press against the inside of his thighs. Ann sucks in a sharp breath.

“Is that so?” he mumbles idly, free hand reaching up to trace the edge of her mask. The worn leather of his glove is soft against her bare skin, and Ann forces herself to swallow around a dry mouth. He pries the glove off of his hand, then the mask gently from her face, dropping them somewhere to the side with his own. “Better be quick, then.”

Her fingers twist into his collar the same instant Akechi’s find the back of her neck, and desire erupts like Agidyne over her thoughts the moment their lips meet.

Akechi melts against her, cradling her head and tilting it so he can better reach her mouth. His lips are as honeyed as the absolutely awestruck way he gazes at her when he’s at a loss for words, and Ann is drunk on the taste of them across her own. She drinks in his shiver as she pokes her tongue out, tracing the way his lips curl into a satisfied grin.

He rests his bare hand just below her waist, close enough to delicate that it drives her insane, and Ann uses her free hand to press into the ridges of his knuckles, splaying his hand firmly against her hip. It seems to work well enough; he wastes no time in curling slender fingers into the fabric of her suit right after, tight enough for his nails to dig into the flesh just below, hard enough for Ann’s breath to hitch.

“I know I complain about it all the time,” she murmurs, leaning back enough to rest her forehead against his, “but that’s not an invitation to ruin my suit. You can put the claws back, Crow,” she snickers, hooking fingers beneath his belt and unfolding her legs so she can tug him closer. His chest bumps against hers and she snakes arms around his neck, holding him close.

“Mhm, says the Panther,” he mutters in amusement, but he smooths the fabric down nonetheless, running his hand languidly along the side of her thigh instead. Sliding his eyes shut, he presses his mouth against Ann’s jaw, the hand behind her head gliding down the back of her neck.

“I’m quite curious whether these zippers really work,” Akechi mutters, dragging a gloved finger along her collar to bat teasingly at the zipper pull just over her throat. If the words alone aren’t enough to make her shudder, he breathes them against the curve of her jaw with a heady sigh as she tangles fingers into his hair.

“You're the detective,” she hums, a teasing lilt to her voice as she plays with the ends of his hair. “You tell me.”

Akechi hums vaguely, letting Ann pull their mouths back together in lieu of a response. His bare fingers climb lazily up the line of her suit’s zipper, the rhythmic click of his fingernail against the metal tracks registering as acute blips of pressure as he travels further up. When he reaches the swell of her breast, she yanks herself back with a strangled squeal.

“Th-that tickles!” she sputters suddenly, wringing her fingers awkwardly behind his neck. Her face burns as she averts her eyes. Akechi exhales a low chuckle, the brunt of it fanning warmly over her lips. When blue eyes dare a glance back up, an amused smile pulls up the corner of his lips.

“Does it?” he asks innocently, letting his finger idle along the zipper just below her chest. Ann narrows her eyes at him, pulling a hand away from his hair to wrap warningly around his wrist.

“Don’t you _dare_.”

“Do you have another suggestion for what to do with my hands then?” he challenges. The smirk on his face makes her mouth feel dry. Ann swallows thickly, loosening her grip on his wrist to twine her fingers into his, bringing the back of his hand to her lips.

“I might,” she responds coyly, flashing him a smirk of her own past lowered eyelids. His free arm snakes around her waist, a reply almost tangible on the tip of his tongue, only to be cut short as the safe room doors fling open.

They jump apart like oil and water, Ann leaping off the table as Akechi jumps back, mahogany eyes wide. Ryuji is the first to barge in, happily announcing his presence, and it’s just loud enough to cover the sound of Akechi landing soundly on his mask. Ann winces as she hears the beak of it snap cleanly off, promptly diving off the table to save her own.

Akechi kicks his mask underneath the table, using his gloved hand in a unfortunate attempt to cover the bright red flush of his cheeks. It’s almost as red as his mask, Ann notes, and she pulls her mask over her cheeks with a grateful sigh. The rest of the team shuffles in, curious eyes on Akechi as Ann rises awkwardly beside him. His discarded glove sits (very conspicuously) by her boot. She kicks that under the table as well.

“You guys are back!” she exclaims. “That was...fast!”

(Her heartbeat is still pounding in her ears, and she focuses on quashing that first, arms crossed over her chest. The ghost of Akechi’s fingers up and down the line of her suit still feel so _real_ , and Ann swallows, squeezing her arms even tighter.)

Ryuji collapses backwards into the nearest chair, head lolling to the side as he glances at her. She’s only somewhat sure that she imagines the way he scrutinizes her for an extra moment before he replies, a huffy sigh bursting past his lips.

“Felt more like forever,” he groans. “Don’t tell me you just stayed in here the entire time!”

Ann is quick to level a glare at him. “We were exploring,” she sniffs. “In fact, we...we just got back, too!" It's a lie, but it's far too late to take it back. "You guys will love the secret operating rooms Crow and I discovered.”

“It sounds like a worthwhile stop,” Makoto interjects, “although probably for another day. I feel like we’re all a bit exhausted.”

“No kidding!” Futaba chirps, lifting herself up onto the tabletop. “Say Crow, what happened to your mask?”

“He took it off!” Ann blurts, “I mean, you know how hot it gets when I use too many fire skills,” she adds, tacking on a weak laugh for good measure. The cover-up is weak, and Ann internally groans. She can practically feel Ren’s eyes on her, curious and frighteningly sharp, and turns stiffly toward Akechi. The blush has faded from his cheeks, and she desperately hopes the same is true for her. “D-do you remember where you put it, Crow? I didn’t knock it off the table, did I?”

“It’s quite alright,” he grounds out, an easy smile plastered on his lips. “I’ll look for it. Should we begin heading out?”

“We made good progress today,” Morgana interjects. “If we go back in tomorrow, we should be able to secure the route to the treasure.”

Haru stands up. “I agree with Mona-chan,” she declares. “Let’s go! Crow, do you need any help?”

There’s a thud heard from underneath the table, and Ann fails to resist the urge to fall down onto all fours and help. Akechi is seated cross-legged on the ground underneath the table, grimacing at the two pieces of his mask. She shoots him an apologetic look.

“I believe this entails you owing me one,” he whispers, quirking an eyebrow at her. Ann rolls her eyes, throwing his discarded glove at him.

“Maybe,” is all she says before crawling back out, lips twisted in a barely concealed grin.

“We got it, Noir, don’t worry,” she announces pleasantly, dusting herself off. Akechi crawls out soon after, both gloves replaced and the mask pieces still grasped in either hand. “Most of it, at least,” she adds, unable to help the snort that barrels past her lips. With a resigned sigh, Akechi places the broken mask over his eyes and promptly sends most of the group into a flurry of giggles.

Even Yusuke’s lips begin to curl into a small smile, fingers framing the sight of Akechi in his new mask as he scrutinizes the new look.

“A work of art?” Ren offers, lips stretched into a cat-like smirk.

“A bold choice indeed,” he agrees, nodding resolutely. Ren’s smirk grows into a full-blown wicked grin as he snickers.

“Alright, let’s go,” Ren announces, lifting himself up to his feet. “We can discuss more once we’re out.” Their leader is met with varying sounds of agreement as the rest of the group follows suit.

Ann sticks to the back of the group as they file out, stretching her arms upward with a heavy sigh. That was  _way_ too close. She hears the telltale clack of footsteps to her side and casts a curious glance over. Akechi falls smoothly into step beside her, and the sight of him with the tip of his mask completely broken off prompts another soft snort. (She forces down a blush at the memory of what caused that to begin with, opting to keep looking forward instead of meeting his eye.)

“I just can’t take you seriously with your mask like that,” Ann blurts, an embarrassed laugh coloring the tail end of her words. “You look terrible.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth again, arms swinging as they follow the rest of the team out.

“You say that as if you aren’t half of the reason why,” he supplies, and Ann doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s wearing a smirk. “Your friends are surprisingly tactful. If anything, I’d say you look about as... _terrible_ as I do.”

She definitely blushes as that, cheeks growing uncomfortably warm underneath her mask.

“I-It can’t look _that_ bad, right?!” Ann brings a gloved hand up to her mouth, fingers giving her lips a tentative poke. They’re somewhat tender and she can’t help the hissed curse that tumbles out. “Oh my god, you’re right... The entire team probably knows that we were-- Th-that we were...” She trails off awkwardly, grimacing.

Akechi has the audacity to laugh,--a horrible, positively musical sound--and Ann punches him on the arm.

“Do you plan on finishing that thought?” he teases. Ann knows that looking up is a mistake, but she does it anyway, unsurprised when her pulse stutters at the sight of his grin but breathless all the same. “I believe we’re almost back at the entrance. _Better be quick_.”

“I _don’t_ plan on finishing it, thank you very much,” she huffs. “I’ve had way too much excitement for today.”

He arches a curious eyebrow at her.

“From the Shadows, not-- Not you!”

“What a shame,” he snorts. He’s silent for a second, mahogany eyes staring at the golden arches that blanket their walkway out. “How about next time?”

Ann blinks.

“Next time what?”

“Perhaps we should pair up next time, too. You mentioned that we make a good team, if not a bit colorful, and I... I agree.”

“You do?”

Akechi doesn’t respond outright, but the corner of his mouth curls up into a small smile.

“Well?”

(Ann looks up at Akechi and remembers three things at the exact same time: her name on his lips, humid and breathy against the shell of her ear; Ren’s warning, _don’t take your eyes off of Akechi in the Metaverse_ ; and the way her heart forgets to keep itself steady when Akechi laughs, when he teases her with that relentlessly attractive smirk and stares at her, absolutely speechless.)

“Fix the mask and I’ll consider it,” she responds, biting back a smile of her own.

He laughs again, airy and absolutely beautiful, and Ann loves the sound of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I was aiming for 1k words, in all honestly, but this works too? I hope y'all enjoyed this extremely self-indulgent mess of a rarepair fic and don't forget to support your local anngoro stans!!


End file.
